


playing chicken

by nobodysdarlin



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Bad Decisions, Bittersweet Ending, Blow Jobs, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Resentment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:39:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobodysdarlin/pseuds/nobodysdarlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juice is tired. And it's not from lack of sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	playing chicken

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of mild but I have this notion in my head that Chibs at one point in their relationship tried to make it meaningless, and Juice couldn't deal with it anymore. This is the result I guess? They'll reconcile for sure.

Juice woke up in a hot panic to a hard, fervent pounding on his front door. He sat upright, eyes scanning the room to find his clock: 3 am. Jesus. The pounding continued, booming throughout his small house as he reached for his gun and tucked it into the waistband of his sweats.

“Juuuuuuuuuuuuuiceeee!!! Juh-uice…..Juicy boy….Juice!!!” the loud knocking continued, and Juice visibly eased at the familiar voice, though an annoyed vein worked its way slowly across his temple.  
“Fucking idiot,” Juice said lowly to himself, shaking his head and heading down the stairs to open the door. The knocking slowed, and Juice could hear a much softer “Juice…Juice?....Jeeeeeeeeeeeee-yues, hello?” coming from the other side of the door.

Juice unlocked the door to Chibs, leaning happy as you please against the entryway. His back was flush to the wall of the porch, head rolling back and forth on his shoulders with the biggest grin on his face. Juice flipped the porch light on to assess the damage. Sunglasses: check. Gas station burrito: check. Bottle of Jameson: check. Chibs was lit.

“Chibbie, do you know what time it is? What are you doing?” Juice said, trying not to laugh. He wasn’t thrilled being pulled out of bed at 3 in the morning, but he was glad it was Chibs and not someone with bad news.

  
“Just wanted ta see ya. Got a burrito.” Chibs said, holding up his token of appreciation.  
Juice laughed. For as long as they’d known each other, Chibs was always trying to bribe Juice with junk food, knowing full well he didn’t touch the shit. He scrubbed his face with his hand, trying to shake the sleep out of him.

“Get in here man, before you wake up the whole neighborhood.”  
Chibs rolled himself off of the wall, slowly dragging himself into Juice’s house. He kicked off his boots without untying them and flopped hard onto Juice’s couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table as Juice scowled at him.

“Thought we weren’t gonna do this anymore Chibbie.” Juice said quietly, sitting on the arm rest in the chair opposite Chibs.

  
“Aye? And what would that be? I can’t come round and say hay to ya?” Chibs stared hard back at Juice, daring an argument. He knew he was more intoxicated than he’d probably like to be to start an argument with the boy, but then again, alcohol is what always seemed to lead him to this mess anyway.

“You’re not just saying hey. I know you better than that.”

Now it was Chibs turn to scowl at Juice. He pulled his sunglasses off and laid them on the coffee table, sitting up straight as if it would help him straighten and sober his thoughts out.

“Juicy, I don’t mean any harm coming over here. Been drinking too much. Didn’t think I could drive home’s all. Alright?” He looked at Juice, waiting for a response. Juice simply nodded. “Alright.”

Chibs got off the couch and walked toward the quiet man, clapped his hands on his shoulders and said “Come on, you’re up now, and that bottle of Jamey ain’t gonna drink itself, aye?”

  
Juice broke his tight-lipped grimace into a wide smile and nodded, walking over to the kitchen to grab some glasses. Chibs followed behind him, feet thudding heavily across the wood floors. As Juice reached up into a cabinet, he felt the man all of the sudden very close behind him. He couldn’t turn around even if he wanted to.

“Chibs,” Juice groaned, hanging his head down and shaking it. “Don’t.”

  
“Don’ what? I’m not doing anything.” He drawled out. Christ. Juice struggled to understand his accent when he wasn’t drinking, but liquor seemed to make his accent jam up like it was coated in molasses. Sweet as ever, but a pain in the ass to stomach too much of sometimes.

Juice could feel Chibs’ eyes burning a hole into the back of his skull. This was a new game of chicken for them. It used to be who would make the first move. Who would leave first. Who needed the other more. Now that it was clear on all of those things, Juice wasn’t comfortable playing this new round of chicken where they waited for each other to say something, put it out on the line again.  
Juice turned around to face Chibs, eyes steady on the man. He side stepped around him, glasses in hand, knowing that Chibs would either follow or grab him. The older man went with the latter.

“Juicey, I’m sorry. I really did just want ta see ya brother.” Chibs looked at him, eyes wide and serious and as sober as he could be considering how much of that Jameson bottle was left. The tension in Juice’s faced ebbed away. He couldn’t stay distant with those eyes looking back at him. Juice was usually the weaker one when it came to the two of them. It had been a weird few months with Juice drawing the line in the sand, having to watch the Scot try and maneuver around it and wonder where the boys head was at.

  
“It’s fine.” Juice sighed, leaning into the hug Chibs was pulling him in to, the older man’s way of apologizing- of doing any sort of emotion, really- was always by showing, not telling.

They stood there in Juice’s living room, Chibs wrapping his arms around him in an embrace, pinning Juice’s arms to his side, non-committal to the hug. Chibs rubbed one arm roughly up and down Juice’s back, and then quieted, loosening his grip on the boy, but not yet letting go.

“I’ll stay like this all night boy-o. You can’t be mad at me forever.”  
Juice raised his eyebrows to this, and decided he’d rather let Chibs think he’d eased the divide between them and not kill his buzz. He wrapped his arms around Chibs waist, locking his hand around his own wrist and holding tight.

Juice honestly didn’t mean to do it. Blame it on muscle memory or interrupted sleep. He honestly did not mean to do it. But yet, he found himself softly kissing the shoulder in front of him like he’d done so many times before. Both of their bodies tightened in surprise. Before either one had time to analyze and list each and every reason why no, they were not in fact going to act on this, both of their mouths were meeting. Juice locked his hand behind Chibs’ neck and pulled him down hard into his mouth, roughly forcing his lips to part so he could run his tongue along his. Chibs mouth was smokey and warm, opening to meet Juice aggressively and sighing as he took in the kiss. Juice pulled back as Chibs moved in to return the kiss, keeping the man at a steady distance, teasing him for a kiss. Juice leaned in slowly, ghosted his lips over and opened his mouth slowly, breath hot on Chibs face. Chibs leaned forward yet again, straining to make his lips meet the other man’s as Juice grinned and pulled back.

“Something you want, Chibbie?” Juice smiled, slowly biting his own lip to keep from smirking.  
Chibs sighed, but instead of forcing a kiss, he ground his hips slowly down onto Juice’s thigh, skin hot from behind the thick denim.  
“Few things come ta mind…” Chibs trailed off uncertainly, heavy on his feet, eyes gone black with booze and adrenaline and for once, not having the upper hand.

Juice was a little unsure what to do with all this authority. It took him about a half second to shake it off and just go with it. He balled his fists into the lapels of Chibs jacket, walking backwards until his heels hit the stairs behind him, dragging Chibs slowly towards him. He kept his gaze steady on Chibs, whose eyes kept darting up at him, trying to read the boy. Juice walked backwards up the first few steps before sitting down, pulling Chibs on top of him, mouths crashing hungry into a kiss. His fists were still gripping tight to Chibs’ jacket, the leather warm against his own bare chest. He pulled him tighter to him with each kiss, as if he could devour the man in front of him the harder he held on.

Chibs wasn’t used to this kind of direction from the kid, but it had him horny as he’d ever been. His skin was on fire, burning up under his leather and thermal shirt. The booze wasn’t helping, leaving him feeling like there was water coursing in his veins, rippling for miles each time Juice touched him. His head was buzzing as Juice rocked his hips up to meet his, heat rising between the two of them, both of their bodies aching for whatever release this all was. Juice broke the kiss and sucked hard on Chibs neck, pushing the leather off the man to ease some of the heat.

“Fuck, Juicy…” Chibs mumbled low into Juice’s ear, turning him on even more. Juice felt his dick throb even harder under his sweats. He pushed Chibs down on him without a word, noiselessly directing him to his knees. Chibs knelt down on the first step, hands crawling over Juices abs and hips, which somehow managed to look even sharper in the light coming from the street. He rubbed his mouth softly at the waistband of the boys sweatpants, lazily teasing the fabric with his teeth. Juice let out a low hum, hitching his hips slightly at the warmth from Chibs mouth.

Chibs took the hint, dragging the sweats down to reveal Juice’s hard-on, head glazed with pre-cum. He felt Juice tense with insecurity at being completely naked. Even as much as they’d known each other and with Juice tapping into his alpha-male mentality all of a sudden, the boy was still as much a headcase as he’d ever been. Kid had no idea how good he looked, naked or clothed. Chibs let out a quiet “Jesus Christ” before swallowing Juice whole.

Juice choked out a gasp as Chibs took his cock down eagerly. He held his hands lightly on the side of the mans head as it bobbed up and down, slowly tonging his shaft as he wrapped his lips around the base. Chibs teased Juice’s head, slowly taking the tip in over and over again for what seemed like years before deep throating all of him, smirking at the response of “Fuuuuuck you” Juice managed to groan out.  
Juice could feel the heat building in his stomach and knew that he wasn’t going to last long. Chibs was drawing slow, small circles on the skin between his hips and lower abs and it was putting Juice over the edge. He felt Chibs steady his pace, cheeks hollowing out and mouth wet as he worked on Juice. He came hard, fingernails digging into Chibs shoulders, hips bucking hard as the last of his load shot into Chibs mouth. With Juice still breathing heavily, Chibs wiped is mouth with the back of one hand, the other reaching up to tenderly stroke Juice’s side.

“Alright, Juicey?”  
Juice nodded, eyes still closed, heart still racing. He opened them slowly to stare at the ceiling of his stairwell, not saying anything as his breathing slowly returned to normal. He put his hand over the one that Chibs was rubbing his side with, squeezing so slightly that Chibs almost didn’t notice. They sat in their silence, not saying anything, another game of chicken slowly creeping over the pair. Finally, someone broke it.

“You should go.” Juice said softly, pulling up his sweats. The hurt and uncertainty he had been carrying for the last few months eased a little as it found a new home: written all over Chibs face.  
The older man stood up wordlessly, suddenly stone cold sober, and closed the door behind him as he heard Juice make his way up the stairs back to bed. He leaned back against the front door, knocking his skull lightly and purposely on it.

Someone had finally pushed back, and he wasn’t quite sure which direction they’d been pushed in.


End file.
